


Taking Precautions

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Co-operation [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Spooks | MI-5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:06:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7400023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock makes arrangements</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Precautions

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Amnesty Challenge on LJ's Fan Flashworks "Double" prompt

Whilst Lucas slept Sherlock applied his mind to the problem.  Clearly the mole had close contact with Section D.  Maybe it was even their head: Harry Pearce.  But no, if Mycroft suspected Pearce of being a traitor he would have made more stringent arrangements.  The problem was both Mycroft and Pearce had their suspicions, but had no intention of acting until they had a reasonable certainty of taking out not just the weed growing above ground, but also the roots beneath.  And in the process Lucas was expendable.  
  
No, it wasn’t that Lucas was expendable (although Sherlock didn’t put the thought beyond Pearce).  Whoever the double agent was they needed Lucas to die.  But why?  
  
Sherlock leapt up.  “John,” he called, “Do not let anyone in, unless I trust them.  You’ve got your gun?”  
  
“Yes,” John looked up, clearly surprised, but instantly on the alert.  
  
“I’m going out.”  
  
“What about Mrs Hudson?”  
  
“She’ll be going out shortly.”  Sherlock looked up from his phone.  “I’ve made arrangements.”  
  
***  
  
Less than five minutes later a taxi drew up outside.  John watched Mrs Hudson, wearing a peacock coloured coat and a floppy hat adorned with large poppies, (and really her taste in hats was getting worse), alight, followed by a young woman.  John looked carefully and recognised Jo Portman.  Conscious of Sherlock’s instructions he went to the top of the stairs where he could keep an eye on them once they were inside.  
  
Mrs Hudson closed the front door and then removed the ridiculous hat, to reveal herself instead as Anthea, who was grinning up at him.  
  
“Everything okay, John?” she called up.  
  
Relieved, John said it was.  He then watched Anthea take off the coat, while Jo went to find the real Mrs Hudson.  The landlady in her turn put on the coat and hat, and left with Jo, grumbling amicably about the dreadful choice of garments.  
  
John returned to watching out of the window and saw a taxi slow down as they exited the front door.  
  
“They were lucky,” John said, “they’ve caught a taxi straight away.”  
  
“Really, John,” Anthea said as she came up the stairs, “do you think we left that to chance?  No, Mr Holmes insisted it was safest if he drove.”  
  
“That serious?” John asked.  
  
“It would appear so.”  
  
There was a knock on the front door and they both looked cautiously out of the window, to see an electricity company van parked close by.  
  
“Oh, really,” Anthea said, “How unimaginative.”  
  
She and John made their way downstairs.  
  
“Right,” she said, “Cover me in case a second person tries to make their way in.”  
  
“What about the back of the house?”  
  
“We don’t need to worry about that.”  
  
She opened the door to a man who waved his ID vaguely in Anthea’s direction.   
  
“Come to read the meter, love,” he said.  
  
“Of course.  Come in.”  
  
She expertly shut the door as soon as he was inside and equally expertly delivered a blow to the back of his head which knocked him out cold.  
  
“Right,” she said.  “Where are we going to put him?  He’s no great ornament so I don’t think we want him in 221B.  And Mrs Hudson won’t appreciate finding him handcuffed to her kitchen table.”  
  
“What about the basement?”  
  
“Excellent idea.  Unfortunately one of us needs to keep an eye on the front door, since I’m expecting his mate to turn up in a few minutes, so we can’t carry him down there.  Give me a hand and we’ll push him down the stairs.”  
  
The sound of the falling body initially obscured the footsteps upstairs.  John froze, and then called out, “It’s okay, Lucas, just us dealing with an unwanted visitor.”  
  
“Who’s us?”  
  
“Me and Anthea.  And before you say anything, she’s one of the five names on Sherlock’s list of people he trusts.”  
  
A sound outside caused Anthea to hush them both, and motion to John to join her out of sight of the door.  Noiselessly, she slipped the latch.  Almost at once they saw the door open slowly.  They remained silent as a second man entered, presumably reassured Mrs Hudson had been overpowered by his predecessor.  
  
Once again, Anthea closed the door, the only difference this time being John was the one who hit the newest arrival over the head.  He, too, was summarily dispatched to the basement.  
  
“Excellent,” Anthea said.  “That should give us some time.”  
  
“What’s going on?” Lucas asked as John and Anthea returned to 221B.  
  
“Your department’s double agent is determined to have you killed,” Anthea replied.  “ _We_ are not going to let that happen.”  



End file.
